As of Late
by corruptedchild
Summary: The storm has calmed and all is well in the world. The Elric brothers can life a normal life free of turmoil. But living a new life is hard when you're trying to pretend nothing bad ever happened to you. Forgetting is never easy. New emotions rise up as the brothers try to cope with their mental state. (This is slash, and not to mention incestual. So be warned. Lots of ANGST.)
1. Chapter 1

The covers stuck to my skin. The thin sheets were clinging to me. Why? I wasn't sweating. I was freezing. I couldn't have left the window open. I was certain that I had closed it.

I tried to make myself go back to sleep but my mind simply wouldn't let me. Maybe that's why I was so cold. My mind wasn't here, against the cushioned pillows. I was physically in Resembool, but not mentally.

I was at Brigs Fortress, Icy air assaulting me at every turn. The wind whipping at me, my leg was aching. Ghost pains at their worst. It was coming back now. All of it was. I couldn't let my head fall into it again, because I knew how much it would take to pull me back out.

It seemed like an eternity ago that I was lying bloody and injured on that rusty warehouse floor with a blunt, sharp steel spear piercing through the center of my body. If it was still haunting me, maybe forever ago wasn't long enough.

I was in pain then – the same pain as now, and so, so much of it.

It was hurting me even now after all of this time. And I couldn't move. Not a muscle. I was locked in this vision now. I was almost positive that I was experiencing the same sensation that occurred in the barracks.

Colonel called it something. It was notable. Sleep paralysis. Yes, that was it I'm sure.

"_Don't open your eyes Edward."_

"_Let it pass before you hurt yourself."_

He would say.

But I already had. My vision was horribly off balance as small hallucinations danced in the dark room. The pain was twisting in my gut – my false leg was aching.

I let myself scream, not being able to help myself. Winry wasn't home; otherwise I would be worried about waking her.

She was acting rather strange lately. She's been becoming more and more distant. Perhaps it's my fault. She's always wanted me to open up to her and I have always had difficulty. It's nothing against her personally, I'm just feeling less connected as time passes. The silences thicken between us, and we're growing apart. She's in the city for a while. Auto mail convention. Figures.

I do care for her. Even so, she seems to have put me on the outs.

"_Why are you so afraid to talk to me Ed?"_

"_You don't have to be so detached."_

What do I even say to her at that point?

"_You never want to open up to me… just talk! Talk to me, that's all I ask!"_

I do try. I really tried. I just… can't. Not now, not after everything.

I don't know how loud I was or even how long I was screaming. I knew that Al would hear me, and I could hear him coming fast down the Hallway. When the door swung open, I knew relief. I was awake, everything would become real again.

He rushed to my bedside. "Ed… What's the matter?!" I couldn't respond yet.

_Help me._

"Nightmares?" He inquired.

_Yes. Do something._

"Can you move this time?"

_No. Help me._

He took my hand in his. "Squeeze my hand."

Even though I couldn't move, knowing the sensation of skin to skin brought up that feeling. The feeling when you know another person's presence, their heat. He was real and he was here with me. This brought me back slowly but surely. My hand could move, and I gently responded to his touch by the lightest bit. Eventually I could move, my breathing became steady once more.

"Thanks." I managed to say it, breathlessly.

"Are you going to be alright?" He asked.

I was silent. I didn't want him to leave, but at the same time I felt like it wasn't fair for me to be so needy. I'm the one that's supposed to look after _him_. This was never how I pictured things to turn out.

Being physically restored was what we always wanted. I'll always feel pride that I got back what was lost. But there was a cost for that. It was a cost that I hadn't realized until later on. The price for our outsides was our hearts and heads.

I can't think without my head screaming, and my heart can't feel without crying. Mentally and emotionally I am an utter wreck. Al gets that. I don't want him to get it, but he does.

We've never talked about it openly, he just kind of knows. It worries me. It makes me wonder if it's because he feels it too. All of these… Ailments, per say.

I never like to be dramatic about these kinds of things, so it's difficult to ask him anything.

Should I ask? Should we even talk about it at all? How would he react?

"Al… Do you remember Brigs?"

"How could I forget?" He took practically no time to answer. I didn't sense any discomfort from him, so I continued on. He sat down on the edge of the bed at my side.

"What happened out there?" He suddenly asked, slightly shocking me.

"What do you mean?" Now that he wanted to jump the gun, I could feel myself slowly backing out. The last thing I want to do is push him away, he's the last person I want to lose. But could I talk about this with him?

"There is obviously something that you're not telling me, Ed." He sighed. "I mean – you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to… I just know that you wouldn't bring it up for any reason"

I thought for a moment. There's my Alphonse. He doesn't want to push me. I didn't even know what to say to him, or where I would even begin without hyperventilating.

"There's really nothing to talk about." I told him calmly.

He huffed loudly, obviously a little frustrated with my answer.

"What about that scar?" He almost whispered it. I almost thought that I was hearing things still.

"What scar are you talking about?" I only have about fifty; even so I knew what he was referring to. I just wanted to drag it along as long as possible.

"Gee, I've only seen it about a dozen times, Ed." He paused, perhaps to backtrack. "What… Happened?"

Or not. I saw no more exit signs. I did owe him an explanation. He's pulled me through all of these hellacious and sleepless nights.

"There was an avalanche… of scrap metal. I fell… back at the warehouse, after Kimblee." I could my heartbeat hiking up a bit.

"And…?" He deadpanned.

"I couldn't catch up, and I blacked out before I even hit the ground."

He just sat and waited, listening intently.

"I woke up with a hunk' a metal right through me."

"How bad was it?" He breathed. He knew the answer to that one if he'd seen the scars many times as he had claimed. "I mean… What did you do?"

I was shaking now, he could he see it. I took a deep breath. I felt him squeeze my hand more firmly. Had we been holding hands this entire time? I couldn't tell.

"…I did what I had to do. I put together what I could and braced myself for the aftereffects. I had help pulling it out, but I still had to put myself back together again. Make sure everything was in the right place and functioning properly."

"But you've never even had any medical practice."

"I know a little something about something. If there's a book that I haven't read-"

"You'll pick it up." He laughed lightly. "I know."

It was quiet for a moment. "What time is it?" I inquired.

"Maybe… 23:40. It's not really that late Ed, if that's what you're wondering. I just want to know why you can't stop thinking about any of this. I'm worried for you, just…talk to me."

Those words somehow felt so much different coming from Alphonse than Winry.

"You've gotten really tall now." I knew I was avoiding the subject.

"So have you." He stated, as he opened the bedside drawer. He drew out a small box of matches and lit the long white candle sitting there on the tabletop. The room illuminated dimly in a serene kind of way.

"Ha – I never thought I would hear anyone say that."

His face bore a smile. But it was a vacant one. He cared for me so much, and it brought me sadness to know that he thought that he couldn't help me.

I knew I had to spill. Not for him, or for me, but for us. I could never live with myself knowing that I had pushed him away as well.

"I thought… I was never going to see you again. I really thought that was it for me." He didn't talk at all, or even move. He just sat and waited until I was through.

"I couldn't leave you, Al. You were blacking out in that – that blizzard. You would have been so scared and alone – and gone – and-"

"Brother, stop."

I stopped. I couldn't breathe. I wasn't going to let myself cry. Not this time. Not in front of him. I have to stay strong for him always.

"We're alive." He whispered, placing his hand on my speeding heart. "Nobody can take anything from us anymore."

I choked out a sob. I knew that, I did. But maybe hearing him say it was what I really needed.

I really did wonder what his eyes saw in that suit, what he felt. He must have so alone. And I suddenly wanted to ask him.

"Al?"

"What is it?"

"When you were in there, in the gate… whole, body soul and all… did it say anything to you?"

"It?" He raised an eyebrow at me curiously.

"The truth." The words ran clean in the air as they left my vocals.

He thought for a moment. I almost felt bad, making him recall something so traumatic.

"He said he wondered what you would give up next time… because… you would be back." He bit his lip. "And he looked identical to you."

That sounds like something the bastard would pull.

"And what did you say to him?" I smiled, eyes watering.

"That I didn't need reassurance."

I could've lost it there. I really could have. I was trying so hard to hold it all back. The silence was killing me. I wanted to just release it all, all of this guilt and doubt and worry.

"You don't have to hold it together for me. It's all right."

He laid down next to me, and pulled me close to his chest as if I were a child.

And what I was trying so hard to avoid was going to happen. I lost it and my eyes became waterfalls. I cried against him for what felt like an hour. I shook and trembled, but he only held onto me tighter.

He stayed through it all, the whole time. And the more I thought about how much I really needed him the harder I cried.

Much time passed before I got a proper handle on myself.

It wasn't fair for me to unload on him. As much as I wanted to quit the water works I couldn't will it when he was still so close to me.

"When did I get like this?"

I heard him laugh. "You didn't _get like this,_ Ed. You've been like this. You're just not so good at hiding from people anymore."

"But why? What the hell changed?" I really did want to hear it from him.

"Because you don't have to anymore."

I pondered hat for a moment. Still, I never really had these kinds of breakdowns very often.

"I was never this weak, even you know that."

"Ed…" He sighed, as if annoyed.

"What?"

"I know things about you that you probably don't even know about you." He looked at me as if he were sad about what he just said to me.

"Pshh, don't me so ominous about things like this." I brushed him off again. I'm becoming so good at that lately. His words always put me on edge, and I never knew how to respond, or what to think other than panic.

"Ed, you act like you've got everything all figured out. But in reality you were just as afraid as I was. We still are."

"You're afraid?" I laughed. He never acts like it ever. Maybe we have the same sickness.

"Of course I am!"

I was taken aback a bit. "You just don't seem…"

"Seem what?"

"You just seem like none of it ever gets to you… if we never talked about this, I would think you were perfectly fine."

"I'm just better at hiding it than you are."

I felt bad for putting him on the spot but that was the last thing that I expected him to say.

"No." He corrected himself. "I don't care if I show all of the weakness in the world. We never get to talk like this. I'm just happy." He snuggled closer into my body, making my heart jump.

"It's you and me brother…" He whispered.

"Always." I reassured him.

He pulled back a little, eyes boring into mine. Gold reflecting gold. His hand brushed my face ever so lightly, and my breath caught. He seemed to be breathing heavier, inching closer.

I felt panicked because I knew I was getting closer to him as well. I wasn't doing anything to stop it. Maybe I wanted this. I must be crazy.

"Brother…" He whispered. I didn't want him to speak, or I would lose it.

"Shh…" I told him.

Our breaths intermingled and I could feel his heat. I could feel the desire emanating from him, and maybe he could feel me too.

Before I registered, his lips overlapped mine, slightly parted. I couldn't breathe. Strings were pulling tight in my chest. I needed this, I needed him.

I pushed my mouth back against his with more vigor. Our mouths opened, and I heard a light gasp as our tongues came into contact. Was that me or him?

I placed my hand on his chest. I could feel his heart; I thought it might burst out from him, with its rapid speed.

My hands were in his hair and his hands were all over me. There was no battle for dominance. Only us, feeling each other.

My lips ached, and yet I still wanted more from him. I pushed more firmly, as we invaded each other's mouths. My breath was strained, my heart was going crazy. I couldn't handle all of it.

And like he knew, like he could read my mind, he pulled away.

He had a look on his face that confused me. "Brother…I…" He looked so worried.

Suddenly it all came crashing down. I realized what we had done and I felt sick. Sick with sorrow and anger. I pulled back away from him. I felt so confused and now everything was ruined. I ruined everything.

He sat up quickly reaching towards me, though I only pulled away.

"Brother…" His eyes seemed to water. "I'm s-so sorry. I'm sorry."

I had no words, I couldn't react. I was too afraid.

Before I could speak he was up, and running out of the room. I didn't chase him. I just felt sad and ruined. I felt like I lost him. My legs wouldn't will themselves to get up and chase after him. To hold him and till him that everything is okay and that we'll figure it out together.

That's what should have happened. But it didn't. I didn't do anything. I just sat in my nightshirt on the bed.

Curled up, worrying. Crying again.

I sat until the candle burned out.

I felt numb now.


	2. Chapter 2

I was afraid to get out of bed that morning. I could hear some feint rattling coming from the kitchen. Was he… making breakfast?

"Ed!" I heard him call out. I wasn't going to get up. No. I couldn't face him. Not yet. No way in hell.

"Ed! Breakfast!" I could smell it actually. My stomach growled at the idea of food. Damn it all.

What, I could just go out there? Was he really going to pretend like nothing happened at all? If that's really what he wanted I could try my best. I could always try for him. Just be normal. I can do this. It's only Alphonse – He's my brother, and I love him. Besides, we've dealt with way more detrimental situations.

Right?

I mean this situation is a little odder by comparison… or a lot odder.

I'm not panicking as much as I was. I've had some time to think it over. And now that I've analyzed it, I think this is a normal occurrence; more or less. When I weigh our intelligence, and how we think, and what we've been through in our lives and what we've had to carry, we've really only had each other. Mom left us so long ago that we barely remember her. And Hoenheim is another subject completely.

But the fact of the matter is that we've have mostly only had each other. And now because of the emotional codependency that we've harbored for so long, it's caused us to confuse differing emotions very easily. Especially those affiliated with love.

The human mind when balanced with emotions becomes very indefinite. Even the most genius of humans could easily fall victim to this confusion. I don't omit Alphonse or myself from that stigma.

This is the only logical explanation, and now all that's left to do is let it pass. It'll pass.

However, as far as my physical reaction goes… I have yet to explain it.

"Ed! Come on, food!" I couldn't put it off forever.

I got dressed quickly not even bothering to tuck in my shirt. I let my hair fall where it chose to because I was not in the mood to search for that damn hair band.

I looked in the mirror above the bathroom sink. I looked like hell. My eyes were puffy and red. It was so painfully obvious in my appearance that I had been crying.

I splashed some cold water on my face, hoping that it would help. I did. Barely.

Alphonse had his back to me when I entered the kitchen. Food sizzled as he shifted the iron pan back and forth. He turned his head to me just a little, a smile playing on his lips.

"Hungry?" He asked softly.

I was at a loss. He was really going to pretend like nothing had happened at all.

"Uh, yeah…" I replied.

He looked to the table where an empty plate sat, gesturing for me to sit there. I took a seat.

He turned completely, pan in hand, and let the contents of it tumble onto the plate. It was your basic breakfast and it smelled really good. He really could cook.

"Eat." He sat down not quite as close to me as he usually would after discarding the pan in the sink.

"You're not eating?" I wondered aloud.

"I had toast." I sensed such avoidance in his tone, it alarmed me.

"Okay…" I couldn't say anything more. I was too dumbfounded, too nervous, and too… sad.

I ate. It was silent the entire time.

Had I dreamt it all? I would consider this to be a legitimate possibility if it wasn't for the state I awoke in. Even so, last night didn't even feel surreal. Not in the slightest. It was so clear; everything is etched perfectly in my memory. I was there, he was there, and_ we_ were there. We were _together._ He was _holding_ me – In a way that will _never _be okay.

The contact, the kiss, the tears, was all real. I can't doubt that anymore. So why do I feel like he's trying to make it all seem like it didn't happen? Is he hoping I would just forget about it, and let it go? He knows me better than that.

How do I ask him? I don't want to set him off. I just want to know what he's thinking.

Hell, I might as well.

"Al." Start simple. Don't back him into a corner.

"Hm?"

"What exactly… Happened?" I rushed it. I fucked it up. "Last night?"

He looked at me, pupils blown. My heartbeat quickened and I felt a familiar lump rise in my throat. I knew full well what happened. I needed to hear it from him.

"Don't." He whispered. Don't? Don't what?

I admit, I expected avoidance, or some kind of dodging. But no, he shot me right down. I thought that maybe I could get him to talk. Something, anything, I didn't care I just needed to hear his voice. And not in a way that made me feel such rejection from him. I didn't want either of us to feel guilty about it. I just want to rationally talk it out like we always do. We could figure this out just like we figure everything else out.

"Al…" I started softly.

"No… Ed, please…" His eyes were watering again just as they had the night before as he became tense. He pressed his palms to his eyes firmly in frustration. My heart all over again was breaking to see him this upset. "I just can't take it – just – drop it Ed… please."

"Okay." If that's what he wanted I could go along with it. I could wait. He can take all the time he needs to talk. I just hope that he will. I want him to come around. And if he doesn't I don't know what I'll do.

Probably cry some more. It seems that's all we're capable of these days, crying. We've become quite good at it, really.

He sighed heavily as he picked up my plate. He strode over to the sink to wash the dishes.

"Thanks." I said.

He didn't answer. That's okay, he doesn't have to.

Winry will be here soon, I should clean up around here. I should probably clean myself up to come to think of it, I'm just a mess, and anyone would be able to tell just how miserable I feel just by looking at me.

Taking a shower outside during sunrise always calmed me down. It was peaceful, and very few things are peaceful to me nowadays. I take mine outside, Al takes his inside.

The water is freezing, and I'm sure it is for him too. I don't mind. I just let myself feel it. As the chilling water pours down my body I'm burdened with confusing thoughts. Thoughts of him. Maybe it's always been him, and I've never known. Maybe I want him so bad I can't stand it. And maybe he feels the same way about me. Maybe it's killing us, tearing us apart.

Maybe.

He's still in the shower when I came back in the house. His showers are long lately. Well, longer than usual anyway.

I sat on the porch to wait; Winry should be coming up over that horizon any minute now.

And just like that, at the very thought of her, she came trotting over that green grassy hill suitcase in hand. Even though she was still at a distance I could see the smile on her lips and the skip in her step. She practically ran the rest of the way at the sight of home. I've missed her, I really have. I thought a week wasn't very long at all. It was.

Her hair is soft in the light wind, and her eyes shine bright. She's so beautiful and deserves the world. But I don't love her like she loves me. I wish I did. I wish I loved her to make everything easier on everyone.

Her hugs are bone-crushing. She has brute strength and doesn't seem to mind crushing my rib-cage. But I don't complain. I know how much she cares.

She hurried us inside.

"How's everything been? Have you been eating?" She bombarded me with questions as she started pulling what looked like huge hunks of junk and scrap metal from her suitcase. Figures.

"Of course I have…" She thinks I can't take care of myself when she's not around… which now that I think about it; it's ridiculous for her to think that way. I think I would come out on top in a test of survival skills between the three of us.

"Al cooks." I admit.

"Where is Al?" I was waiting for her to ask that.

"Shower." I know she hates the one-worded answers that I always give her, but that's literally all I have to say. I can never think of anything more and it drives her insane, I just know it.

She looks slightly perplexed.

"How long has he been in there?" She asked.

"I don't know… a while. Since before you got here." I felt like I was trying too hard to sound disinterested.

"I've been home for nearly half an hour…"

"I know…" My eyes stayed downcast.

"Ed." I didn't look at her.

"ED!" I had to look at her. It wasn't fair. I lifted my head letting my eyes meet hers. "Is everything alright?" I knew she would catch on quick. Maybe she doesn't know exactly what's happening, but she knows something isn't right. She has instinct.

"Yeah." I responded too quickly. If she wasn't suspicious before, she was now.

She didn't say anything. She just looked at me.

"Edward." Her tone was very warning. Almost as if she was my mother.

I wasn't going to tell her and there was absolutely nothing on this earth that would convince me that it was a good idea to do so. I couldn't even think about how she would react to something like that, it wasn't even a plausible thing for me to think about. I couldn't even think of how her reaction would play out because it felt so unreal to think about. It would be too upsetting, too tragic, too heartbreaking, and too sick.

Sick. There I admitted it. I'm sick. It's sick. I wasn't about to share my thoughts on it.

"How have you been sleeping?" I could feel myself tense at the question. But I knew that she had genuine concern, so I brought myself to answer her regardless.

"Fine." That would have to be the truth for now.

"What about your nightmares?"

"They've been better." Again, another lie. But who was it hurting, really?

"Are you just saying that?" She always was smart.

"They're hardly nightmares, Win."

"You know what I mean." '

Of course I knew what she meant, but that didn't want to make me talk about it. She knew about my chronic insomnia, she knew about my sleep paralysis symptoms, and she knew about my shell shock. Why she wanted to play therapy with me, I didn't know. She knows that I'm hesitant towards it. I could talk about things, it's not easy for me but I can. Al is really the only one that I can talk to when it comes down to it. It kills me to think that I've possibly lost that.

I didn't answer her. I wasn't going to, she couldn't make me.

"Have you seen the Doctor?" Questions, questions, questions.

"Win, give it a rest!"

She slammed her toolbox down on the kitchen floor. "Will it kill you to see the doctor?!"

She was going to hit me, I could feel it.

"I don't like that doctor. He looks at me like a total head case. And what's worse it that he looks so fascinated by it." I was being honest for once.

"Well I don't know anything about that – you'll just have to deal with it, Ed. I don't even know how you can go so long without seeing a doctor." I knew where she was going with this. She always does this. Tries to find more and more reasons why I'm _not _okay, more reasons why I need help. I don't want the help, I just _don't_.

"I've never needed one. Why should I get one now?" I haven't ever needed one. I've made my own and figured it out. I don't need someone telling me what's wrong with when I already know. They can't fix it any better than Alphonse or me.

"Alchemy doesn't fix everything."

"Don't you think I know that by now?!" I didn't mean to yell. She looked slightly taken aback. But at the same time it almost looked as if she had expected it. Maybe she was used to it by now. I did feel bad, I always do. I was angry, but not with her. The reason for my anger was far beyond anything that she would ever know about.

Her eyes shifted and she became fixated on the door frame.

I looked behind me. Alphonse was standing there, hair dripping, smile twinging. Had he heard all that?

"Winry."

That's all he had to say before she ran forward to hug him just as tightly as she had hugged me.

She pulled back and looked into his eyes with sincerity. "Is everything alright Alphonse?"

He smiled at her. "Of course." I heard him laugh.

He was so damn convincing. And I would never have it down like he did.


End file.
